


Every Little Heartbeat, Every Little Breath

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-25
Updated: 2007-09-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "They're barely inside the motel room before Dean's slamming Sam against the wall and pushing their bodies together, as close as he can get with layers of worn cotton between them."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Every Little Heartbeat, Every Little Breath**  
Sam/Dean, 1,066 words  
  
**Notes:** A DTTE-verse smutlet for [ ](http://tvm.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tvm.livejournal.com/)**tvm** , unbetaed, pure PWP and utterly shameless. Happy birthday. I even tried to keep the schmoop down just for you. Operative word being _tried_ , of course. And it's totally still your birthday here so it doesn't count as late.  
  
  
  
They're barely inside the motel room before Dean's slamming Sam against the wall and pushing their bodies together, as close as he can get with layers of worn cotton between them. "I'm going to fucking kill you," he hisses, and he's braced for a struggle, but his brother's not fighting, not even trying to get away.   
  
Sam just says, "Later," and then "Dean," low and hungry, and then they're kissing, all fear and fury and adrenaline and relief. They jerk towards the nearest bed, bodies tangled, and Dean manages to work Sam's shirt and then his own off between fierce kisses, but Sam stumbles when Dean sinks his teeth into his neck and they end up on the floor, half-naked and breathing hard.  
  
Sam moans when Dean rolls on top of him, moans louder when Dean sucks at the bite mark, hard enough to bruise. His cock is a hard, hot line against Dean's thigh, and his hips jerk shamelessly, seeking more. "Should tie you up and leave you like this," Dean mutters, and Sam laughs breathlessly.  
  
"Like--" he gasps when Dean bites viciously at his collarbone, "--like you could stand to withhold sex."  
  
"Fuck you," Dean says, and he knows just how weak it sounds even before Sam's snort, but he's too busy moving between his brother's legs and working his jeans open to care that much. He wraps his fingers around Sam's cock, jerks it out into the open air, and his mouth waters at the feel of it, thick and hard and hot in his hand. He slides down and takes it in his mouth, moaning at the scent, the taste, sweat and musk and sharp, hot need.  
  
Sam groans along with him, thrusting up, and Dean opens his throat, swallows him down. He wants to Sam to fuck his mouth, wishes they were in a better position for it, but he compensates as best as he can, pulling one of Sam's hands to the back of his head. "Fuck... Dean..." Sam gasps, but he knows what Dean wants, he always knows, and he wraps his other hand around Dean's head, yanks him ruthlessly farther down on his cock.  
  
Dean just takes it, lost in Sam's scent and the weight of his cock on his tongue, overwhelmed and still wanting more. He sucks, salivating helplessly, eyes watering as Sam pulls his head back and then yanks him down, again and again. His own cock feels like it's going to explode, but even that's a dull concern as he fights to suck harder, take more.  
  
Sam's not going to last, can't last at this pace, and Dean needs his brother's orgasm like he needs oxygen, needs to feel Sam come apart beneath him, needs to taste his come, drink it down and keep sucking until he's drained him dry. He feels the telltale shudder against his tongue, feels Sam's hands tighten in his hair, and he moans, hungry and wanting. But then Sam's pulling him up and off, yanking painfully when he whines and tries to wrap his mouth around him. He bites his lip viciously, determined not to beg, and tries to concentrate on Sam's urgent voice. "--not like this, I want--"  
  
" _What_?" he snarls, angrier than he means, but his mouth feels hollow and his body is thrumming with helpless need.  
  
"Want you naked," Sam says, and Dean's moving before he can fully process the words, wrestling himself out of his jeans and boots as fast as humanly possible, never taking his eyes off his brother. Sam doesn't move to remove his own clothes; he just watches Dean, his hand slowly moving on his own thick cock, lubricated with pre-come and Dean's spit, and Dean thinks his brain might short-circuit.  
  
"Don't come," he say hoarsely. "Sammy, don't you dare..."  
  
"C'mere," Sam whispers, and Dean kicks the mess of leather and denim out of his way and dives for his brother. "Not like-- Dean, no, turn around," Sam says, and Dean suddenly understands, twists until he's upside down on top of his brother, and swallows him down again at the same moment Sam sucks the head of Dean's cock into his mouth.  
  
They groan together, loud and joyful, and Dean thinks for a moment that it's too much, more pleasure than he can stand, the soft, wet heat of Sam's mouth around his cock, Sam's cock swelling and leaking against his tongue. Sam hums with pleasure, mouth vibrating against him, and he groans again, sucks with everything he has.  
  
Sam lets Dean's cock slip from his mouth, and Dean shudders at the loss, the cold air harsh against his wet skin, but Sam's already shifting him with hard hands on his hips, forward, down. He feels Sam's fingers, sliding, spreading, and then Sam's tongue is stroking across his hole, licking and teasing and then pressing into him. He screams, actually screams around Sam's cock, and he can feel Sam's sharp laughter vibrating against him before Sam starts tongue-fucking him in earnest, stabbing in and out mercilessly until Dean cries out and shoots helplessly across his brother's chest and belly.  
  
Sam moans as Dean's come hits him, and he thrusts up, cock spurting into Dean's mouth. Dean swallows desperately, drowning in it, Sam's cock shuddering against his tongue, come filling his throat, tongue still buried deep inside him, and he has time to wonder if maybe they died after all before he slumps forward, world going hazy and white.  
  
He's vaguely aware of Sam pulling back, pushing him over and off, and he shivers when Sam shifts around and down, takes Dean's cock into his mouth and lazily nurses out the last drops. "Open your eyes," Sam says, and Dean forces them open, looks at Sam kneeling between his legs, at his own come streaked across Sam's body like a brand. "I'm here," Sam whispers.  
  
And he should yell, should rage, should tell Sam exactly how fucking stupid he is, tell him if he ever risks his own life for Dean again he's going to spend the near few years in a full-body cast, but he can't summon the words, can't manage anything beyond pulling Sam against him.  
"  
Sam tangles their fingers together, presses soft kisses into his neck. "I'm right here," he says, and Dean buries his face in his brother's hair and lets himself breathe.


End file.
